Fallen God
by ArwenisWholocked
Summary: SPOILERS FOR THOR: THE DARK WORLD! Taking place during the events from the end of "The Avengers" through the end of "Thor: The Dark World", a view of the above events from Loki's angle, including some of his thoughts and childhood memories throughout these events. Rated T for safety; follows the movie plot pretty strictly. I OWN IT ALL. :D Don't I wish... ALL RIGHTS TO MARVEL.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Hey, guys! I know… it's been ages since I started a fanfic, and I'm sorry to anyone who might be following me (ha… ha… ha…). I've been busy. XP (Technically, I'm supposed to be studying now, but I'm sacrificing.)**_

_** Anyway, I finally saw **_**Thor: the Dark World**_**last night and I LOVED IT. Haters gonna hate, but Loki is one of my favorite characters. I'm also a huge fan of angst, so when I saw Loki in his cell after he went slightly insane… :DDD That was amazing. I also wanted to know what Loki thought about all of this during his solitude and stuff, so I figured, what the TARDIS; I'll write a fanfic. And thus, here I am skimping on German homework to bring you… **_**Fallen God****. **

**1**

Loki stood in brooding silence, watching the prison guards walk away from his cell through his window, which hummed quietly with the power of the impenetrable forcefield that separated Loki from his freedom. He gently massaged his wrists, glad to be free of the ostentatious chains and muzzle he had traveled to Asgard in from Earth following the aftermath of the attack on New York.

A slight sense of humiliation crept into Loki's mind, bringing with it memories of his failure on Earth, only accentuated by the pounding headache raging in his temples. He closed his eyes and tried to wipe Tony Stark's smug smirk from his mind, the deafening roar of the creature, and the dull throb of bruised ribs from the beating he had taken—no, had been _**given**_—by… what did the humans call it? Oh, yes… the "Hulk".

A sneer twisted Loki's lip. Humans… such pitifully simple, mindless creatures, elevating monsters and failed science experiments to the status of heroes, practically worshipping their little happy accidents that defended their beloved freedom.

_Fools._

Opening his eyes, he glanced around at the cell. The walls were replaced by wide, floor to ceiling windows that allowed the guards to keep the prisoners in constant surveillance; each of the windows was charged with a powerful forcefield with enough energy to kill the prisoner if he maintained physical contact with it for too long. The cell itself, however, was curious. While the other cells in the dungeons were completely bare, Loki's cell had a few meager furnishings—a bed, chair, a table, and a few meaningless, but attractive, decorations.

His mind wandering again, he thought of his reception in Asgard upon his and Thor's return… _**Thor**_. A wave of dark, twisted anger woke inside of him, but he forced it back, retaining his blank expression and continuing to stare silently ahead.

The instant he and Thor had materialized inside the throne room of Asgard, they had been surrounded by guards, their weapons leveled at Loki. Thor, refusing to meet Loki's defiant glare, had stepped away from the crowd and walked to where Odin, the Allfather, stood watching, his face expressionless. He exchanged a few brief words with Thor, who, after a moment or two, left with a few guards with the Tesseract, likely to one of hidden vaults for safekeeping, one of the securest places for one of the Infinity stones.

Odin finally turned to look at Loki, his face still blank, unblinking in the sudden coolness of Loki's stare. A wall of ice seemed to spring up between them, impenetrable and unforgiving.

The sound of footsteps distracted the two of them, and they both turned to see Frigga walking towards them, a mixture of relief and sadness written on her face as her eyes met her son's.

"Loki," she said, her voice equally torn between emotions. She brushed the hair from his eyes, gently, taking in the cuts and bruises on his face he had received from Banner. She turned to Odin, a slight look of disapproval written in her face.

"Our son has returned, and I find him muzzled and chained, like an animal," she said. Loki could hear a hint of an accusatory tone in his mother's voice. "Has he not suffered enough humiliation for his foolishness?"

"The prisoner is a murderer, Frigga, one who has destroyed the lives of many for his own petty desires. Death has been the sentence for far less," Odin replied simply, emotionlessly.

"The prisoner," Frigga shot back suddenly, "is your son." She turned to the guards, drawing herself up to her full height. "Release the muzzle from the prisoner," she demanded.

The guards obeyed, and Loki breathed in the fresh air deeply, nodding curtly at his mother. He saw the sadness in her eyes deepen, her heart breaking over the lost innocence of her child. She sighed and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, Loki…" she whispered. "What have I done wrong to cause you to become this?"

A pang of regret struck him, unbidden, choking his anger and desire for revenge, silencing the cries of his wounded pride, and—

"Enough," Odin's voice cut through Loki's thoughts. The moment passed; the regret vanished, his frigid anger restored.

Odin turned to the guards, ignoring Loki's icy glare. "Strip the prisoner of his armor and weapons; use such search methods as are necessary to ensure that you have done your job. Take him, then, to the dungeons; he will remain imprisoned in his cell until I decide his fate."

The guards bowed and took hold of Loki's arms; he stiffened in their grasp, but resisted the urge to fight back. He finally turned away from his father as the guards lead him from the room; as he left, however, he could still feel the pained gaze of his mother follow him from the hall.

Loki picked up a decorative sphere on the side table of his cell and examined it with detached interest. He tossed the ball up in the air, watching it spiraling rapidly as it left his hand, and caught it deftly as it descended. He tossed it again, caught it. Up. Down. Up. Down…


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Hey, guys! WOW, thanks so much for the positive feedback! I've never gotten so many reviews/follows in one day EVER. :D So keep R/Ring, and I'll try to keep updating! I'd like to be able to post a new chapter regularly, maybe once a week or so, but I'm not going to promise anything; I want to have the next one or two chapters at least partially written, if not completed, every time I upload. Right now, this is the last chapter that I've written, but I've already got an idea for the next chapter and I'll be working on it tonight. So hopefully I'll have the third chapter up within a couple of days!**_

_** Again, thank you all for your support! :D It really means a ton.**_

**Disclaimer: I am Arwen of Awesomeness. KNEEL, FOR I AM BURDENED WITH THE GLORIOUS RIGHTS TO THIS FANFIC. And I have come down as a benevolent goddess to… wish that I had the rights to Thor and the rest of the Marvel stuff. :P Good enough for you, Stan Lee?**

2

Loki stared at the intricate designs carved onto the columns in the throne room, ignoring Odin's expressionless speech, which was periodically interrupted by the clinking of the heavy chains linked to Loki's neck, wrists, and ankles with every move he made. The noise was quickly becoming a nuisance… not to mention the clanking chains.

Odin's droning voice faded in and out of Loki's hearing, shifting backwards and forwards between his conscious and subconscious as certain words and phrases caught his attention: _**You have disgraced us… innocent lives you have taken… always seeking war, bloodthirsty for it… your selfish desires… endangering all of the Nine Realms…**_

_** Et cetera, et cetera, **_Loki thought to himself with a deadpan expression. He had no reason to care what Odin thought of him; he had long ago stopped trying to impress the fool, once he had learned the truth about himself and discovered just how little he was really worth to either his so-called father or to Thor. Those were the mistakes of the past; he would not fall into them again.

He suddenly realized that Odin had stopped talking, and he turned towards the old man with a look of feigned surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry… what?"

To Odin's credit, and as per usual, he showed no visible signs of annoyance. "It seems my words fall on deaf ears. I waste the wisdom that time has granted me by casting it before those who value it not."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "The expression is 'throwing pearls before swine'… something the humans thought of." A slight, ironic smile played at his lips. "I never quite felt the weight of its truth until I tried to rule them. My attempts of benevolence were truly thrown before dumb, witless animals."

"Your crimes are inexcusable," Odin said simply. "Despite your intentions, however worthy you may have considered them to be, you have spilt the blood of innocents, rudimentary as they are. Your actions are not to be taken lightly, prisoner."

Loki narrowed his eyes and smiled bitterly. "'Prisoner'. You can't even bring yourself to say my name, simply because I've embarrassed you, 'Allfather'."

"It is not a name worthy to be spoken!" Odin said sharply. "It is a byword, a curse, a reminder of my foolishness in choosing you to be my second son, a child deluded by illusions of grandeur, seeing himself as king on a throne that would never belong to him!"

_**"IT IS MINE BY RIGHT!"**_ Loki roared, his rage bursting from him before he could stop himself. For a moment, the carefully designed illusion he had cloaked himself in vanished, revealing his lengthening, disheveled hair and tunic—

Instantly, the illusion was restored; Loki continued to glare at Odin, bottling his rage again, but continuing to seethe in his mind with righteous anger. It was _**his **_throne, _**he **_who should be king over the Nine Realms, not his oaf of a brother who was too besotted with his little pet human and making a show of his strength in order to prove his worth to his father to even care about ruling. _**He **_was the firstborn, whether by blood or otherwise; it was his _**right!**_

Loki suddenly found himself being pulled away by his chains as the guards turned to leave; belatedly, he registered that he had been dismissed, and defiantly stood his ground. The guards stopped, unsure of what to do.

"Fool," Loki sneered. "A glimpse of my true nature is all you need to send you cowering in fear, ordering me to be thrown back into your little cage. All because you are a _**coward**_." His last words turned into growl, dripping with contempt and hatred.

"It is not I who would send you away," Odin replied calmly, standing with his back to Loki.

Loki turned slightly and saw Frigga watching him from the shadows, her face grim and careworn. "You?" he asked with some surprise. "Then do you, too, fear me, Mother?" He couldn't hide the menace in his tone as he walked toward her; she stood her ground and continued to watch him advance. "How often do you lie awake in the night, wondering what your little boy will do next, how he'll break your heart again, how long until his hatred turns against even his own mother? Am I now no more than a threat to you?"

"No, Loki," Frigga whispered. She placed her hands on his shoulders as he stopped in front of her and looked deep into his eyes. "No… because I fear that you are becoming a threat to yourself."

He blinked rapidly and stared at her, caught off guard by her statement.

"I fear the hatred that you hold in your heart," she went on. "How much more will you feed its fire with your anger and jealousy? When will you be satisfied? When it consumes you and turns you into a monster, darker than even you thought possible? When it darkens your eyes to all creatures and becomes the sword of your crimes, the source of the blood on your hands, the beast that destroys not only those you love, but eventually even yourself?"

She closed her eyes and let the tears fall, leaning her head against his chest. "Will you let go of the darkness tainting your heart one day, only to find that it has choked out the pinpoint of light that still survives even now?"

"Frigga," Odin said softly. "Come away now."

For a moment, she didn't move. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned away. With a nod from Odin, the guards began to lead the prisoner from the hall again.

"Mother," Loki said suddenly. He turned back towards her and the guards halted once more. Frigga met his eyes, and her words echoed in his mind.

_**When the darkness has choked out the light… When the darkness has choked out the light…**_

Loki smiled sadly, his anger momentarily gone and replaced only by regret and emptiness. "It already has."


	3. Chapter 3

_**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A BIT OF BLOOD, BUT IT'S DESCRIBED A BIT GRAPHICALLY THAN NORMAL. HAVE CARE.**_

_**A/N: Hello again! Here's chapter 3; I wanted to quickly let you guys know that there will be some flashback scenes, like in this chapter, and there will also be some chapters where the majority of the spoken dialogue is taken directly from the movie and I just did the descriptions and the mindset of the characters. (You'll see, haha…) Also, I know this story is in the angst genre, but honestly, it won't get all that angsty really until later. There's one chapter that I CANNOT WAIT to do and I'm really planning to just destroy it with angst. (Ok, I'll tell… it's the scene when Loki finds out his mother is dead, just from being told that she's dead until Thor visits him.) But it's going to be a while… So the most of the angst will be pretty moderate in this story, and it will be mostly emotional angst rather than physical. Don't get me wrong, I live for Loki angst/whump, but since I'm sticking to the story line, I don't want to bring in excess stuff like torture or anything like that, since it's pretty clear that that didn't happen in the movies. (I might try writing whump and torture Loki sometime, though… :D). And again, thanks so much for the reviews! **_

_**Druall: I'll try to lengthen the chapters some more; this one may be longer than usual because I want to explore a lot of areas. The thing is, I'm very much a one-shot writer (which is why this story may seem a little bit disjointed), and I don't write very long one-shots, so I'll have to work on making things longer. :D CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. Thanks again for your feedback! :D**_

_** Ok, enough of me prattling on. LET IT BEGIN!**_

_**-Arwen ;)**_

**3**

There were infinite ways, Loki hypothesized, that one could pace around the cell to which Loki was confined, depending on where exactly along each wall he started and in what sort of path he walked.

Luckily for him, he'd probably have eternity to figure each one out.

He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the corner of his cell, lost in thought. He had no doubt that Odin would show him no mercy, whenever he finally found it convenient to sentence him, at any rate. Loki expected the outcome would be either death, exile, or the spending the rest of his days trapped in this glass box, the only container that could stop him from escaping, no matter what tricks he devised against it. Once again, he was doomed to isolation, spurned and despised by all.

No different to what he was used to. Such was his fate in life, it would seem.

A bitter taste filled Loki's mouth as he remembered learning the truth of who he was, finding out that he was no more than an outcast and worthless, mewling insect to his father, Laufey, and no greater than a pawn in Odin's political games with Jotunheim…

Loki paced in his chambers, his breathing shallow and staccatoed, his hands shaking, his trembling fingers occasionally running through his now tangled and wild hair. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, his eyes wide and wild, a raging storm of fear, shock, and fury.

_**Laufey's son…**_

He stared at his hands, wondering at their pale color, tinged red with the blood rushing through them. Everything he was… all a lie. Down to even the color of his skin.

A small, strangled cry escaped him, his hands clenching into fists.

_(He stared down at the Casket, watching the power within it swirling madly in the depths of the cube, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he watched it writhing, waking, responding… to __**him**_._ He touched its handles and watched with horrified fascination as his skin transformed, blue snaking up his fingertips like the advance of deep frost.)_

Odin had saved him from death, rescued him from abandonment, taken him in… _**and for what?**_ Loki thought bitterly. _**Only because I was useful, a tool to be exploited.**_

_(On sudden impulse, he lifted the casket from its pedestal, breathing faster now as it came to life in his hands—)_

_ ("Stop!")_

The power of the Casket had known him for who he truly was and had accepted him, its power answering to _**him**_, Loki, the Frost Giant. Not Loki of Asgard… Loki _**Laufeyson**_.

_ (He stiffened as Odin's command echoed in his ears, staring at the blue skin that covered his hands and the rest of his body, its alien appearance made even more horrifying by the fact that it felt… normal. It felt like _**his**_ skin.)_

_ ("Am I cursed?" he asked, his voice rough with the turmoil of emotions that fought for control over him—fear, mistrust… hatred.)_

_**Cursed**_, he thought. Cursed to a life of rejection and worthlessness, despised and apprehended by all, victimized and manipulated, never allowed to truly belong to anyone.

_("No," Odin replied simply. Loki set the casket down, his hands beginning to shake ever so slightly.)_

_ ("What am I?" Loki whispered. He turned, his eyes crimson, his skin a pale blue, speaking the truth of his identity: that he was… he was a…)_

_ (No. Not that. It was impossible.)_

_ ("You're my son," Odin said.)_

Lies… all lies… Even his parentage had been a lie.

_("What more than that?" Loki pressed him. He advanced slowly towards Odin, his eyes wary, hiding the fragility and fear that lurked beneath. "The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?")_

_ (Odin's shoulders seemed to sag slightly and he looked older, more careworn and wearied by age and the centuries, millennia of hardship he had faced.)_

_ ("No," Odin admitted, taking a deep breath. "In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the Temple, and I found a baby." His gaze turned distant and glazed as he remembered the cries of the child, its blue, cold skin marked with ancient Jotun runes that faded into the pale, warm complexion of a human infant—a boy. "Small for a Giant's offspring…" Odin continued, fixing his eyes firmly on Loki's face. "Laufey's son.")_

Loki's stomach clenched as the realization struck him again. _**Laufey's son.**_ He was a Frost Giant, the prince-child of a monster, a murderer, one of the last of his people, abandoned in the cold and left to die among the warriors of his people, never to know anything but blood and death.

_(Loki felt as if the floor had dropped out beneath him, and he was almost sure his heart missed a few beats. He blinked rapidly, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of it all. "Laufey's son…" he repeated, stunned. A nauseous, weightless sensation built in his gut, waves of heat rushing over him, his pulse pounding in his ears, and he struggled to regain control of his senses. Once he was able to speak again, questions flooded his mind so fast that he was forced to grab onto the first comprehensible one that touched his mind.)_

_ ("WHY?" he asked, incredulous. "You were knee-deep in Jotun blood; why would you take me?" It was a sincere question, but suspicion and betrayal began to grow beneath it.)_

_ ("You were an innocent child…" Odin began, and Loki instantly knew that he was hiding something.)_

_ ("No; you took me for a purpose," Loki deduced, determination and a hint of wildness in his eyes. "What was it?")_

_ (Odin hesitated, trapped, and Loki felt as though he would go mad.)_

_ ("TELL ME!" he screamed, desperation filling his words as tears of horror and despair rose to his eyes.)_

_**Would it have been better not to know? **_Loki thought hollowly as he paced the room again. Forwards, step, step, turn. Back, step, step, turn. _**Would I have been happier without knowing who I truly am, blissfully unaware of the truth of why I am here in Asgard rather than dead on Jotunheim?**_

_(Odin seemed to age another hundred years, leaning on his staff a little more heavily; when he spoke again, his voice was filled with regret and, Loki almost thought, shame. "I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance… bring about a permanent peace… through you," he confessed. "But those plans no longer matter.")_

_ (Loki felt as though Odin had stabbed in the back. "What…?" he breathed, shocked, a tear falling down his cheek. It couldn't be true… Father would not do this to him, wouldn't use him and treat him with such humiliation… but Odin himself had spoken it, and somehow, Loki knew that Odin couldn't be lying.)_

_**Why?**_ Loki thought, betrayal and anger rising inside of him. _**Why did he never tell me and instead feed me the lie that I was his child, and then cheat me out of my throne, my rightful place as king, when I, a prince, was **_BORN _**to rule?!**_

_("So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?" Loki accused, his voice broken and full of unshed tears.)_

_ ("You twist my words…" Odin began, but Loki wasn't finished.)_

_ ("You could've told me what I was from the beginning; why didn't you?!" Loki demanded, his hurt beginning to escalate to anger.)_

_ ("You are my son, my blood," Odin said sadly, his face pale and drained. "I wanted only to protect you from the truth.")_

_ (__**The truth of what?!**__ Loki felt the invisible knife his father had plunged in his back twist viciously; so Odin was ashamed of whom Loki was? Afraid of him? "What, because I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night?" Loki stammered, and he felt his anger quickly giving rise to fury and bitterness.)_

_ (Odin stumbled forward, shaking his head. "Don't…")_

_ (Somewhere in his mind, Loki began to realize that something was seriously wrong, but he was far too enraged to care. Ignoring Odin's wearied, persistent, "no"s, Loki pressed on further, venom dripping from his words as his voice turned into a snarl. "You know, it all makes sense now why you favored Thor all these years," he spat, his brother's cocky attitude and haughty conduct springing to mind, as well as how Thor had always been the better one, had always been the one to gain the privileges, the one who, no matter how undeserving, would inevitably inherit the throne following the All-father's death. His blood boiling, his hands clenched into fists and he strode closer, even as Odin sank to the ground, a desperate, pleading hand reaching out as if to stay Loki's anger. "Because no matter how much you claim to __**"love"**__me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!" Loki snarled.)_

A growl of rage ripped from Loki's throat, and he slammed his fist against the mirror hanging on his bedroom wall. It broke, the sound sharp and loud as the glass shattered against his hand, and he suddenly caught sight of himself in one of the pieces.

_(An instant later, Loki's mind seemed to catch up with him, and he suddenly registered what he was seeing as he watched Odin collapse on the stairs.)_

_ ("No…" Loki breathed, horrified.)_

_ ("Guards! Guards, please, help!" he shouted, his voice panicked; within seconds, the guards burst in and, without a moment's hesitation, hurried Odin away to the healer. Loki stared at them as they left, his eyes wide with fear.)_

_ (__**What have I done?**__)_

A crazed, crimson-eyed monster stared back at Loki from the shattered glass that still clung to the frame of the mirror; the creature stumbled backwards, its chest heaving, one pale blue hand beginning to bleed as the shards of glass embedded in its fist ground against the muscles and knuckles of its hand, slicing the skin that slowly began to fade back into pale normalcy traced by lines of liquid red.

Loki felt the floor tilt beneath him as his vision darkened and his ears began to ring; he collapsed to his knees among the glass shards on the floor, the pieces tearing his trousers and raising hairline cuts on the skin beneath. Barely registering the throbbing of his palm, he buried his face in his hands, his fingers tangled in his hair painfully, sharp pinpoints of discomfort stabbing his scalp as the dark strands pulled free in Loki's grip. His breathing shallow and gasping, he remained in his position on the floor, shaking with fear and revulsion.

_**What am I?**_

_**"You're my son."**_

Odin's words echoed in Loki's mind as he stared up at the ceiling of his cell, and his mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. _**Not anymore.**_

Because there was no redemption left for either of them, no forgiving Odin's lies and no giving up what Loki had become—a monster, tortured by his past and the lies he had been fed for so long, the pain fueling his descent into a darkness of the mind that not even the brightest light could break through. His father's betrayal had placed him on this highway to hell, and so he would walk it until he got there, until the blood and screams of those he had killed haunted him with no release, until the thirst of his fury for vengeance was finally satiated, no matter the cost.

_**This, All-father, **_he thought, his emerald eyes glaring maliciously at the ceiling. _**This**__**is what I am.**_

_**A/N: WOW. That was a marathon… :D Hope you guys liked it! It was a lot of work and I had to fix some stuff quite a few times so it didn't get repetitive. Sorry about the h*** thing for those who are sensitive to language; I don't usually use it and I don't like to, but it worked kind of perfectly here, and it won't be coming up again. (Yeah, I know there's a d word in the argument with Loki and Thor about Jane, but I figured something out with that, so don't worry about it. **__**) So please read and review! :D**_

_**Love,**_

_**Arwen ;)**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: 'Allo! Sorry it's been a while… Thanks again for all of your feedback and such; I really like hearing from you guys and seeing how many people are interested in reading this thing. :D I hope you guys liked some of the angst in the last chapter; I really liked writing it, despite having to revise it a few times. I've always liked taking movies and basically novilising them… haha. So you'll see that a good bit in this story—taking scenes from the movies and exploring the emotions in them and suchlike, as you'll see in this chapter. But don't worry; I won't do it all the time. :D**_

_** Kaylinthehuman: Exactly! I love that scene and I cry every time… there and at the Bifrost scene… So I really loved doing that chapter and exploring everything in that discussion. :3**_

_**Enjoy the new chapter! :D**_

_**-Arwen ;)**_

**4**

Loki stared into the small, ornate cup he held in his long fingers, swirling the water in it idly and watching it transform into a spinning whirlpool of liquid, sloshing against the sides of the cup as it spun around in dizzying circles, still unable to escape the confines of the cup. Loki couldn't help but feel like the dancing pool of water in the cup—his mind racing, slowly growing more frenetic as he longed to be released from the cage of his cell, so powerful and capable of so much… and yet trapped here, slowly wasting away as the days dragged on timelessly. He figured it had been at least a year, maybe a little more, since New York, an idea surmised from the changes of season he saw briefly through the windows of the palace when he was brought before the Allfather, as well as the changes of attire he observed in the various individuals that roamed the place. It had been quite some time since he last visited Odin, or at least it was how it felt to him, and he was feeling increasingly caged as time went on.

He set the cup down and stood up, pacing restlessly back and forth, watching the other prisoners milling around their cells. He was one of the few who actually had his space to himself, whereas the others shared their cages with others. There had been an influx of prisoners from other realms recently, most likely Thor's doing, and he occasionally thought he heard his brother's voice echoing through the hall leading to the dungeons. The sound always stirred the restless beast of his anger inside of him, and he would find himself clenching his fists and fighting the desire to lash out at something as memories of the injustices he had suffered at Thor's hands crowded into his mind. _**One day**_, he promised himself each time, _**I will have my revenge. **_He clung to that hope, its motivation the only thing that allowed him to keep control of his sanity. Because he knew that if he was broken, he would never find it in himself or have the chance to exact his revenge on those who had hurt him, lied to him, and turned him into this.

The sound of measured, approaching footsteps brought him out of his reverie; he looked up and saw a pair of guards walking towards his cell. They were holding the now-familiar collar and cuffs Loki was forced to wear when he was released from the dungeons to face Odin, identically blank looks plastered on their faces.

"The Allfather demands your presence in the throne room," one of them informed him stiffly. "There, you will receive your sentence for the crimes you have committed here in Asgard, on Jotunheim, and against the people of Midgard."

_**At last, **_Loki thought dryly, standing up with a curt nod. Deeper inside of him, he felt himself tremble slightly, pathetically. He knew that there would be no way for him to evade death, should that be his fate, and he would be forced to die as a common criminal, executed without a thought, never to relish the dark, sweet taste of the vengeance he so desperately desired.

_**Enough, **_he thought sharply. _**Weeping for what will be lost will not change your fate, nor will anything else. Regardless of the outcome, none shall soon forget the acts of Loki Laufeyson.**_

xxx

The sound of slow, heavy footfalls, accompanied by the dull, metallic clank of chains, echoed through the vast throne room as Loki approached, the helmeted guards silent and expressionless as they gripped the chains by which they were cuffed to the god. A slight, smug smirk was fixed on Loki's placid face as he walked, his air unashamed and unbeaten as always, the twisted confidence of his manner seeping through him and beginning to calm even the tiny thrill of fear that huddled deep in the dark corners of his mind.

He came to a stop some distance away from the tiered steps that led to Odin's throne, sensing the motion of someone beyond his peripheral vision. He knew instantly that it was his mother by the way her presence weighed on his mind, despite his restricted magic thanks to several spells cast on the chains he now wore, the same spells cast on his cell that allowed him to do little more than shift items around and maintain visual illusions… nothing strong enough to permit his escape.

"Loki," she greeted him, and he could hear her sadness and fear for him in her voice. Forcing back the sentimentality that threatened to rise within him at her appearance, he turned to face her.

He smiled at Frigga thinly with his typically dark, icy grin. "Hello, Mother," he said devilishly. "Have I made you proud?"

Frigga's face was grim and for a moment she looked a slightly hurt, but she hid it well. "Please, don't make this worse."

Loki raised an eyebrow, his grin fading. "Define 'worse'," he returned coolly.

"Enough."

Odin's voice, quiet yet powerful, ended the exchange instantly, both of them looking up at the Allfather.

"I will speak to the prisoner alone," Odin said, implying a gentle dismissal of his wife. Frigga cast a quick glance at Loki, seeming to silently asking him to be reasonable; then she turned and left, her light footsteps echoing quietly as she walked away.

For a moment, Loki felt the sputtering flame of remorse strengthen somewhere within him as he watched her go. How much pain had she suffered at his hand, watching her son take the lives of hundreds and injure thousands more, both on Jotunheim and on Earth? How did the goddess of prophesy soldier on each day, even as she foresaw his own bloodlust and rabid desire for revenge slowly destroying him from the inside out as the hollow, aching void of numbness strengthened with each death he caused, the only thing he would have left when he finally sat on the throne, when he was finally satisfied, and when the guilt replaced his glee, ravaged his mind, tore him apart, and when he survived its destructive fires to find that nothing was left?

And then she disappeared from his view, and he was alone with the guards and Odin.

The flame died again, smothered into nothing but an invisible ember, too weak to fight back against the darkness Loki choked it with.

Loki walked forward slowly with exaggerated ceremony, clanking his chains together loudly as he stood stiffly before Odin, his smirk renewed. A second later, he relaxed, laughing at both himself and the situation. "I _**really**_ don't see what all the fuss is about," he said.

Odin remained stiff and emotionless as ever. "Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes? Wherever you go there is war, ruin, and death."

His tone was severe, but Loki merely shrugged. "I went down to Midgard to rule the people of earth as a benevolent god… just like you." He subtly emphasized the last three words, reminding Odin of his time and influence on the people of earth some centuries in the past. The crude, rudimentary humans had worshipped them, and the thought reawakened old memories and emotions of the past that Loki was quick to stifle.

"We are not gods," Odin corrected him. "We are born, we live, we die, just as humans do."

Loki gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Give or take about five thousand years," he added, grinning stupidly.

"All this because Loki desires a throne," Odin said, his eyebrows raised slightly.

The grin on Loki's face vanished instantly, but he kept his composure enough to maintain his illusion of immaculate grooming. Nevertheless, his fury was rising, the thin dam holding back the raging torrent of bitter jealousy and betrayal threatening to break at any moment. _**It **_**SHOULD**_** be my throne; I **_**DESERVE**_**to be king!**_

"It is my _**birthright**_," he snapped harshly, no longer hiding the stark hostility that coated his voice.

"_**Your 'BIRTHRIGHT'**_," Odin barked suddenly, spitting out the words like a curse, "_**was to**_ _**DIE!**_" His voice suddenly grew calm. "…As a child, cast out on a frozen rock. If I had not saved you, you would not be here now to hate me."

Loki blinked a few times; the comments stung, and he loathed the fact that he owed his life to his adoptive father, no matter how much he wished to deny it.

"If I'm for the axe, then, for mercy's sake, just _**swing it**_," Loki urged him exasperatedly. "I mean… it's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just…" A thin, cool smile appeared at the corner of Loki's mouth. "I don't love them."

"Frigga is the only reason you're still alive, and you will never see her again," Odin said dismissively. Loki was unsurprised; he knew for a fact that Frigga would fight with everything she had to protect her wayward son, and he felt a repressed sense of gratitude towards her.

Odin continued with finality, "You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeon."

Loki felt a lump rise in his throat, disbelief ringing in his mind, although he hid it carefully. It was a humiliating, weak sentence, confining him to a glass box for eternity until death finally took him after the creeping, everlasting days of millennia upon millennia crawled by.

"And what of Thor?" Loki demanded, struggling to speak around the shock that was quickly dissolving into anger, resisting the tug on his restraints as the guards began to lead him away. "You'll let that witless oaf become king while I rot in chains?"

The statement was completely devoid of its usual wit, painfully lacking the biting, acidic nature that characterized his words, but Loki was beyond caring.

"Thor must strive to undo the damage you have done. He will bring order to the Nine Realms, and then…" Odin paused, and Loki thought he saw the ghost of an almost triumphant smirk cross his face.

"Yes. He will be king."

_**A/N: Well, there's the new chapter… I'm sorry it wasn't very glamourous, and I wanted to put some more in, but I didn't really know what to add to it without going into another chapter idea. Plus, I REALLY need to stop writing and finish doing the homework for my class later today… XP Sorry that it's been a little while since I updated; I wanted to get a bit ahead of my current writing and start on chapter five (i.e., come up with a solid idea of what to do). So like I said, I probably won't be able to update very regularly, especially as summer gets closer and I have to focus more on finishing up the school year… :P I'm not sure how long this story will go on for; I definitely plan on ending it where **_**Thor: The Dark World**_**ends, but I don't know how much I'll put in the middle. For those who are waiting for the real angst, I'll try to throw some in here and there, but the chapter I'm REALLY excited about isn't for a good long while, so don't hold your breath… :P Anyway, hope you don't hate this chapter… I'm not terribly fond of it. (Way weaker than chapter three, which is currently my favourite.) But whatever. :D**_

_**Thanks again for the reviews, favourites, and follows!**_

_**-Arwen ;) **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Wotcher, mates. :D Hope you all are doing okay, hanging in there and such… New chapter! BTW, I know that in the summary it says that this covers events from the end of the Avengers to the end of Thor: The Dark World… But yeah, as you can I see, it'll have stuff from other times and such. So the physical time frame for Loki is the same, but there may be flashbacks and such nonetheless.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**-Arwen ;)**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Moral me: Stan Lee would not want us to pretend we have the rights to Marvel...**_

_**"I DO WANT I WANT" me: Well, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.**_

_**Both: *laughing sadly* I WISH I OWNED MARVEL!**_

_**Grumpy Cat: Suck it up. YOU DON'T.**_

**5**

_**In dreams, Loki wanders the halls of his memories, tracing the paths of the days gone by, their sentiment tugging at his heart unbidden, undesired. And yet, he cannot escape their grasp… and so he remembers.**_

Loki raced down a long corridor of the palace, stirring up clouds of dust from the artwork and sculptures decorating the walls. His light footsteps were almost silent, a mischievous grin on his face as he ducked around the bust of one of his ancestors, turned the corner…

…And skidded to a halt, his grin fading from his youthful face.

He stared at the huge portrait—or rather, the huge wall it hung from—that blocked his way and realized with horror that he was trapped. He could hear Thor's heavy footsteps running up behind him and knew that he had mere seconds to find someplace to hide. Casting his eyes around wildly, his gaze lighted on a heavy curtain that shielded one of the paintings from view. Racing over to it, he ducked into its heavy folds, dust swirling up around him and making him want to sneeze. Holding his breath, he remained perfectly still as he heard Thor barrel into the corridor. Biting back a giggle, Loki barely breathed as he heard Thor's hesitant footsteps wandering around the hallway.

"Looookiiii…" Thor called in a sing-song voice. Loki bit his lip to stop himself from laughing, but he knew that in a moment his cover would be blown.

"I know you're heeeere…" Thor went on. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and hunched his shoulders, biting his lip harder. _**Stop, don't make me laugh…**_

"I can smeeell yoooouuu..." Thor hissed in a serpentine voice, then sniffed so dramatically that it turned into a snort.

Loki couldn't take it anymore, and the breathless laughter he had been holding in burst out of him. He collapsed on the floor, his feet sticking out from under the curtain as he laughed uncontrollably.

"GOTCHA!" Thor shouted, whipping back the curtain.

Loki kept giggling, but he scowled at his brother after a moment. "You played me a false hand, Thor! You cannot attempt to make me laugh to find out where I am."

Thor shrugged. "There is no reason for you not to do the same. It isn't a rule."

Loki frowned. "Still… I tire of this game. Can we not find something else to entertain ourselves with?"

Thor rolled his eyes. "If you so wish." He turned to lead the way out of the corridor but stopped suddenly, a daring glint in his eyes.

"Loki… I will wager that you cannot climb up that column to sit in the crevice between it and the arch," he said, turning with a grin to his younger brother.

Loki stared at the column, his eyes wide. The column was smooth and tall, branching off at the top into a long, curved arch that stretched across the corridor to the column on the opposite wall. The column would be easy enough to shimmy up, but it was dangerously tall, and the descent would be no less dangerous, should he manage to reach the arch at all.

Thor poked him in the shoulder. "You aren't afraid, are you, brother? It is a mere column; do not let its height deter you from an adventure!" He strode over to it, wrapped his legs as far around it as he could, and began shimmying up its height.

"See?" he grunted, casting a grin down at Loki. "A child far younger than you could accomplish it. And you will be one hundred and seven tomorrow!" He paused for breath. "Once I reach the arch, you must try."

Loki felt worry twisting in his stomach; he had no desire to try reaching the arch, as there was no point in him falling and spending his nameday stuck in bed with an injury. But then, Thor would tease him for being afraid. Biting his lip, he looked up at Thor, who was already more than halfway to the arch.

It couldn't be _**that **_hard…

He sighed. "Very well… but if am injured, I _**will **_lay the blame where it rightly belongs—with _**you**_, brother."

Thor smiled. "Of course."

A few minutes later, Thor was perched safely on the arch, dangling his legs down over the edge. He was tall for his age; however, the arch was much larger than it appeared from the ground, and so he found that the arch was wide enough to lay back on its surface. Loki took a moment to calm his nerves; Thor was fine and wouldn't fall. And if Thor could do it, why not him?

Setting his chin, the younger boy walked over to the column and began to climb.

It was hard work, and he could by no means go as fast as Thor, but within a minute or two, panting and sweating, he glanced up and saw that the arch was quite close. Thor grinned down at him proudly.

"See? I told you that you could do it, Loki! And it is not so difficult or frightening as it seems," Thor praised him as Loki took his brother's outstretched hand gratefully and clambered onto the arch. Loki couldn't help but smile, despite being too out of breath to reply.

The arch really wasn't so bad after all; there was no danger of either of them falling off, as long as they didn't get too close to the edge. The brothers stared down at the ground for some time, taking in the view. Thor seemed to be enjoying it immensely, but as soon as Loki realized how far up they were, he felt himself beginning to sweat, his heart pounding in his chest, and quickly looked away, scooting away from the edge somewhat to reach the safety of the wide, middle swatch of the arch.

The contemplative silence was suddenly interrupted by a staccato burst of curious twittering from the opposite arch. Loki yelped in fright and Thor gave a start of surprise; both boys whipped around, searching for the source of the noise.

After a moment, Thor began laughing, albeit somewhat shakily. "It was only a bird, Loki," he smiled, pointing at a small bird poking its head out from the nest it had built in the corner of the arch. Loki felt the tension in his stomach begin to uncoil slowly.

Thor gave a relieved sigh, resting his chin in his hands. He stared down the length of the arch at the bird, a calculating frown on his face.

"I wonder…" he began, and Loki's eyes widened.

_**"NO,"**_ Loki said instantly, his voice surprisingly firm.

"Loki, your fears are irrational!" Thor sighed exasperatedly. "I could easily walk to the other column and back with no danger of falling! And besides, would you not find the nest of such a creature fascinating to study? Surely you cannot be so afraid—"

"_**No**_, Thor," Loki repeated, shaking his head firmly. "I will not let you endanger yourself so recklessly!"

Thor scowled. "Your fears make you weak," he scoffed. "I will _**prove **_that I will not be hurt!" He jumped to his feet and walked forwards a few steps. "See? I am perfectly unharmed!"

Thor's jibe stung Loki, but his fear gave precedence to his hurt as Thor walked carefully along the arch; his concern for his brother giving him strength, he stood up, too. "Thor, sit _**down!**_" he insisted, his anxiety palpable in his voice.

Thor ignored him, continuing to walk away; but as the older boy glanced down at the drop, Loki was sure that he had seen Thor's hands trembling slightly. Nevertheless, Thor walked on, his determination and curiosity too strong for him to stop and think rationally about the situation.

Then, without warning, everything went wrong.

The small bird, which had been hopping around its nest somewhat restlessly as Thor approached, decided that the boy was far too close for its liking and burst out from its nest, twittering madly and flying in dizzying circles around Thor's head. He gave a shout of surprise and stumbled, wavering dangerously and almost falling off of the arch. A scream of terror ripped through Loki's throat, and he lunged forward, grabbing onto Thor's tunic and attempting to pull him back from the edge. Thor panicked, confused and terrified as he realized the true danger he was in. The next thing Loki knew, Thor had twisted violently out of Loki's grip, flinging his younger brother away from him…

And with a shriek of pure, unadulterated terror, Loki tumbled over the edge of the arch.

_**A/N: MWAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA! CLIFFHANGER! BOOYAH! So I wasn't originally going to do this, but then the story sort of ran away with itself and I figured… "Hey, you know what? I'm just gonna stop here. Why not freak a few people out?" :D **_

_** About their ages… So basically, since the Norse gods are all really old and they don't look it, I figured they'd be around their hundreds or something like that… compared to humans, though, I'm thinking Loki is about seven or eight, and Thor is ten or eleven.**_

_** :D Mischief runs rampant… YOU HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTAAAAAAAH :D HAHAHA! And to make things worse, I don't know when it'll go up… I'm going on vacation next weekend, so we'll see… :D Haha, don't worry; I'll probably post the follow-up in a little bit, unless I get really busy.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Greetings, earthlings. :D Guess who's back! This chapter will likely be a short(ish) one because I honestly don't have the time to write much of anything right now… :P Plus the fact that I'm a little short on ideas for expanding this. But yes… I will resolve the cliffhanger… :D Didn't you all enjoy the panic attack? …No? Seriously? *Sighs*… Alright, then.**_

_**This chapter might be a bit messy… there's some blood and broken stuff and such… nothing really bad, but anyway…**_

_**Thanks again for all of the follows and favourites; they mean a LOT! :D And reviews… Can't live without the reviews. :D**_

_**-Arwen ;)**_

**6**

_**Falling, the weightless feeling of plunging down through the air, the huge, brown expanse of stone rushing up to meet him like an ominous monster, and—**_

Loki jerked awake with a slight gasp, his eyes snapping open as he burst free of the dream. He shut his eyes again almost instantly, however, as a wave of blinding light flooded his vision, sending pinpricks of discomfort lancing through his eyes. Blinking several times, he began to adjust to the light at last and stared around him.

He was in his cell again, his tunic clinging to him somewhat, the bedclothes rumpled and kicked off of him into a tangled mass at the end of his bed.

_**Pathetic,**_ he berated himself, sneering in derision at his own emotions. _**Scared witless by a mere childhood memory. What are you becoming, Laufeyson?**_

And yet, Loki cannot escape the lingering feeling of childhood terror, the tingling of his throat from the memory of screaming and screaming in fear as he lost control of himself, incapable of stopping his fall until…

He stiffened somewhat, remembering what had happened next, despite his efforts to bury the detail deep in his mind, justifying his actions with the idea that no matter what, it had been _**his **_fault Loki had fallen, _**Thor's **_stupidity and reckless pride that had sent his little brother over the edge… and in far more ways than one.

But he couldn't banish the memory from his mind, and as he rolled over again, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep, he felt himself sinking back into the pool of memories as the present drifted away into the shadows of sleep.

xxx

Loki screamed as he felt his feet leave the arch, flailing and grasping wildly for something to stop his fall. _**"LOKI!"**_ Thor bellowed, his horror at what he'd done obvious in his voice.

Before Loki knew it, he suddenly felt Thor grab him by the hem of his tunic. The shirt was blessedly too big for Loki's small, thin frame, and later, Thor would say many times that its size, while always a nuisance to Loki in every other situation, may well have helped save his life.

Loki's descent slowed down significantly, and he found himself dangling helplessly far above the floor, the space between him and the ground seeming to grow even more as he hung from Thor's grip, his chest heaving as he gasped for air, panic seizing him in an iron grip until he could barely breathe.

Thor groaned with the effort of holding Loki up; despite Loki's small stature and weight, the velocity of his fall had only increased the amount of force pulling against Thor's arm. Loki felt Thor's finger's slipping slightly on his shirt and gave a slight yelp of terror.

"Thor, don't let go!" he begged, his voice shaking terribly, tears running down his cheeks. "Please, Thor!"

"I'm… _**trying**_…!" Thor grunted, trying to pull Loki back up onto the ledge… and suddenly the extra weight pulled him forward and he almost lost his grip on the edge where his long legs hooked on the opposite side of the arch to anchor him. Thor yelled in surprise as he scooted forward, barely managing to hook one of his feet around the arch again in time. Loki suddenly felt himself descend further, the stitches of his tunic beginning to rip.

"Thor!" he shrieked. Thor's grip on Loki's tunic was slipping quickly, and suddenly, Loki realized that he was going to fall. His wide, terrified green eyes met Thor's guilt-ridden, despairing blue ones…

And then the shirt ripped completely, leaving only a small strip of cloth in Thor's fist, and Loki was falling again, screaming again, and the ground was only a meter away, and Thor was yelling his name and why, _**why**_ had he climbed onto that arch?

He crashed into the ground and felt something in his left arm snap, his body exploding in pain as his left ankle twisted painfully underneath him and his head hit the stones beneath him. He howled in pain, curling into a ball of agony as he clutched at his arm, his head swimming and something warm creeping down the side of his head and tickling his ear. He stared up at the ceiling and desperately wished it would stop spinning, waves of pain and nausea slamming into him, his stomach clenching and twisting with each throb of his arm and ankle. He suddenly rolled over and vomited, his eyes watering from the acrid stench and the overwhelming _**pain**_… and then the shadows lurking at the edge of his vision crept in and sealed him off in darkness.

xxx

Loki slowly opened his eyes, gradually coming awake from a restless, dreamless sleep. He looked around, wondering where he was, before recognizing the room as his bedchambers, which he shared with Thor.

He was tucked into his bed, the thick, warm covers wrapped around him like a cocoon of security and comfort. The warm rays of late morning sun filtered into his room, and he started to sit up. Almost instantly, he was seized by a wave of dizziness and pain and he collapsed back onto the pillows surrounding him. He looked over at his arm and saw that it was wrapped in a cloth sling and propped up on a pillow; underneath the covers, he could feel that his ankle was similarly supported. As his disorientation dissipated and the pain began to subside, he suddenly realized that he wasn't alone, and looked over to the other side of the bed.

Thor was curled up next to him, his blonde hair tangled into a rat's nest of knots, his mouth slightly open as he snored gently. Loki smiled, already feeling even safer as he watched his brother sleep. Thor wouldn't let anything happen to him… Almost nothing… Loki frowned slightly, wondering why Thor hadn't been able to save him when he had fallen. Thor had always been there to rescue him… and yet this time, he hadn't been.

Still frowning, but feeling somewhat stronger now, Loki slipped out from under the covers, careful not to jar his splinted ankle. After waiting for another rush of dizziness to pass, he limped over to the mirror on the wall and stared at his reflection.

His hair was messy and tangled; running his fingers through it, Loki found that it was still damp with sweat. A newly healed gash about an inch long ran along the side of his head, clearly knitted by Mother's magic. His ankle and arm were bandaged and splinted; his face was slightly flushed, and he was trembling slightly from exhaustion and hunger. He blinked a few times and the room seemed to have grown darker; he suddenly felt like the world was tilting and stumbled back to the bed, crawling back into the security of his covers and waiting for the alien feeling to go away.

After a while, he began to feel better and relaxed a bit, scooting closer to Thor and pulling the covers Thor had stolen back over himself.

A soft knock sounded on the door and Loki looked up. Frigga slipped inside, smiling in relief as she saw that Loki was awake.

"Oh, Loki," she sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing a kiss onto her son's forehead. "Your fever appears to have broken, at least… How do you feel?"

"My arm still hurts," Loki admitted. "But otherwise, I will be alright."

Frigga nodded. "Good… I hope that you are aware of the foolishness of your actions yesterday, however. You could have easily perished falling from the arch. And while Thor's actions may have been heroic, they nonetheless should not have been necessary by any means." She looked him straight in the eyes. "Loki, do not _**ever**_ seek to engage in such an activity again. Your father and I love you both far too much to allow you to endanger yourselves so recklessly for the sake of your own entertainment. Is that understood?"

Loki bit his lip, ashamed but also a little defensive. It had been _**Thor's **_fault, not his… the whole thing had been _**Thor's **_idea!

Nevertheless, he nodded. "Yes, Mother."

Her smile returned, gentle and warm. "Good." She brushed his hair away from his face and kissed him on the forehead again.

"You should remain in bed, at least for today," she said, somewhat apologetically; then she smiled conspiratorially. "But don't think I've forgotten what day it is."

Loki blinked, and then he remembered—it was his nameday. He felt a tingle of excitement dance up his spine, mixed with disappointment at his inability to get up.

His face must have shown his emotions, however, because Frigga smiled sympathetically. "Well, we cannot allow you to be so troubled on such a day! Would you like to receive one of your gifts now to pass the time?"

Loki nodded. Frigga took his head in her hands gently; Loki stared at her in confusion, but said nothing. She smiled reassuringly, then closed her eyes the way she always did when she was about to perform magic. She whispered a few words that he couldn't catch, and then placed her forehead against his.

For a moment, nothing happened… and then suddenly, a warm, tingling sensation began to build in his mind, spreading throughout his body like water seeping through tunnels of underground reservoirs. The sensation built as Frigga continued to speak, and he felt a rush of energy and excitement rush through his spine.

And then, Frigga let go. Loki blinked a few times, and then his eyes widened.

Everything was sharper and clearer, as if it had been drifting out of focus all of his life and he could only just now see it for real. The sunlight was more alive, more beautiful than before, the sounds of Thor's snoring clearer and more distinct, the scent of spring wildflowers drifting in through the open window, and the feelings of cloth against his skin, the cool breeze from the window raising goosebumps on his arms—everything was so much more vivid than before and he felt as if he could do so much, create and destroy and rebuild and imagine… the energy—the _**magic**_—was boundless and amazing.

His eyes wide, he looked at Frigga, and she smiled, radiating happiness. "Happy Nameday, Loki."

And with a bright sparkle in his emerald eyes, magic rushing through his body, he grinned.

_**A/N: So! There's the resolution. **__** I really liked the idea of Frigga sharing her magic with Loki as a scene; it was alluded to in a deleted scene from Thor 2 (in which Thor asks Frigga if she ever regrets sharing her tricks with Loki), and I really wanted to explore how that may have happened. So hopefully you liked the angst bit. That was fun to write… :D So enjoy the chapter! I may take a while to update again; I'm going to be away over the weekend and I'm busy for the first half of next week… so don't freak out or anything. :P Plus, I've got some writer's block… XP I hate that so much! I'm thinking of having Loki and Frigga talk (apparently they had previous chat sessions prior to the movie one), but I'm not completely sure what they'd talk about. I'm trying to avoid being repetitive, so… :P I just came up with an idea for the end of the chapter, but I need some content in the middle. I'll figure it out… In the meantime, you can always read some of my other stories or reread the chapters from here (CHAPTER THREE. READ CHAPTER THREE A MILLION TIMES. Sorry… XP I just adored that chapter…)! Or you could check out my newest idea for a bit of bad humour and crack… It's "We Could Take On the World (Wide Web)". Weird title, but I had no idea what else to call it. XD So have fun with that…**_

_**Keep on reading, reviewing, favouriting, and following, please! (And BTW I only use British spelling in my comments because… actually, I'm not sure why…)**_

_**-Arwen ;)**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Hello, people… Ugh, I am so tired. The company we had this weekend is now gone, and the house feels depressingly empty… TIME TO WRITE A NEW CHAPTAAAAAAAH! :P Haha… Enjoy…**_

_** Olaf the Snowman: Thanks for your review! I really like the dynamic between Frigga and Loki; it's really complex and like you said, quite bittersweet. I think if no one else, Loki truly loved Frigga and Thor. So hopefully I'll get to mess with that some more later on! :D **_

_**-Arwen ;)**_

**7**

He heard her coming almost as soon as she set foot in the dungeon, sensing, despite his dampened powers, the disturbance of the still air she created as she entered, a mixture of frigidity surrounding her as she walked towards his cell… and yet the restless, smoldering flames of her resentment still stirred underneath, along with something else that seeped through, black and poisonous, slowly creeping through her, the power of her _**hatred**_.

A slow, sly grin spread over Loki's features as she stopped in front of his cell, her face almost—_**almost**_—completely impassive, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at him.

"Lady Sif," he greeted her, his voice dripping with mock politeness. "Welcome to my… humble abode." He spread his hands, gesturing towards the comforts his moth—no, _**Frigga**_—had provided him. "I'd offer you a seat, but…" He smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid I can't let you in."

Sif continued to stare at him with almost no indication that she had heard, but Loki thought he detected the slightest hint of an eye-roll at his theatrics.

"Why so taciturn, my dear?" Loki asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps you do not wish to speak with me, out of spite for… what?" He shrugged. "My lack of remorse for my actions on Midgard? Though I should hardly think that that has any bearing on you, my lady.

"Or perhaps it is because of my shunning of Thor, my refusal to bring him back from his exile, my treatment of him on Midgard? And yet, again I find no reason for you to care," Loki went on.

He paused and stood up, walking closer to the forcefield. "Or _**do **_you care? Perhaps this is far deeper than any light sympathy for him… Has he confided in you the depth of his pain?" He saw her blink twice and felt a slight thrill of satisfaction. "Does he find you a solace in the times of his sorrow and weeping? Do not pretend you don't feel his love for you, Lady Sif."

A muscle twitched in Sif's jaw, but nothing more; nevertheless, it was more than enough.

Loki feigned surprise, his eyes widening as if receiving a sudden revelation. "Oh, my… Or perhaps he does _**not **_love you? Maybe you have finally come to understand his affection for another, his pet mortal, Jane?"

Loki's voice lowered, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Do you feel it, Sif? The caustic taste of jealousy each time you think of them together, his love and devotion given to another, one far less… formidable, one far weaker, far more transient… far less _**beautiful**_…" He stepped closer to the barrier, staring hard into Sif's eyes, his voice barely more than a whisper, "than you?"

He stepped back, smirking still. "Who could match the worth of Lady Sif? And then along comes a foolish, ignorant mortal, and suddenly the Lady Sif, in all her battle-clad glory and beauty, in all her lethal strength and _**power**_," he spat, "is no more than an old friend… _**nothing**_ in the eyes of her beloved compared to a mere, mortal _**girl**_."

He gave a sigh of longing, turning his back to her. "Ah, the pains of unrequited love… Tragic, my dear. Tra—"

A shout of frustration broke through his monologue, and he spun around. The forcefield seemed to explode with energy, sparks and uncontrolled charges racing through its surface and making the lights flicker, emanating from a slowly blackening, disintegrating knife blade embedded in its center. As the wisps of smoke cleared, his ears ringing slightly, Loki caught sight of Sif.

Her jaw was clenched tightly shut, her nostrils flaring as she breathed heavily through her nose, her eyes blazing with barely controlled fury, her fists clenched tightly at her sides and a lethal throwing knife gripped in her right hand.

He grinned maliciously. "Such anger, Sif! Such… pure _**hatred**_..." His grin widened. "I expected no less."

Sif narrowed her eyes at Loki. She strode forward, reaching up and wrenching the dagger out of the forcefield and casting the weapon aside as it began to crumble into ash in her hand. The forcefield remained completely unharmed.

"You do not deserve this," she said finally, her voice rough with anger as her breathing steadied. "Do you wish to know why I came to you?"

Loki spread his hands. "Enlighten me, please."

Sif raised her chin. "I came to remind myself why I do not pity you, prisoner. When I heard the All-father's sentence upon you, I almost felt sorry for you. A humiliating judgement for a prince, I thought it to be.

"But now, I see the truth. You do not deserve the _**mercy**_ you have been shown, son of Odin. You do not _**deserve**_ to merely slowly rot away, your only punishment a commoner's death and the scourge of boredom. You do not _**deserve**_ to live… you deserve death and far, _**far**_ worse."

She sheathed her other knife, still glaring at Loki. "And above all, you will _**never**_, not in a thousand, a million lifetimes, deserve Thor, your brother."

She turned to leave, and Loki felt his mood sour instantly beneath his grinning façade. Before she walked away, however, she turned back.

"I do pity him," she said softly, her eyes narrowed icily at Loki. "I pity him because he stubbornly continues to throw his love away, feeding it to swine like you in the hope that he will one day expose the nonexistent good that remains in you. He is blind to the truth—that such goodness is no more than a figment of his imagination—and so he clings blindly to a failed hope for you… And you do not deserve even that."

Then, with a swish of dark hair and the sharp sound of boots against stone, she was gone.

_**A/N: There you go! I'm so sorry it's been so long since I updated… I just had a bout of writer's block, and I only recently thought up an idea for what to write. But we had company, so I haven't had time to sit and write anything… :P But I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to update again soon! I hope you enjoyed this chapter; it wasn't as good as I had hoped, but ok. :P**_

_**Thanks again SOOO MUCH for all the favourites, follows, and reviews! It really means a lot. :D Keep 'em coming! :DDD**_

_**-Arwen ;)**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Oh my gosh… IT'S BEEN A MONTH AND A HALF ALMOST. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?! I'M SO SORRY! And it just figures, seeing as this was supposed to be my "magnum opus" or something. XD I despise exams… But I'll hopefully have more time to update stuff now. To all of you who have reviewed and followed and favourited, thank you soooo much!**_

**8**

_**Pain.**_

_** It consumed him, ravaging every fiber of his body like a raging fire, and yet it was dangerously cold and frigid at its source. He was lost, breaking into a thousand pieces that he desperately clutched at, trying to remember who or what he was, but the shards of his sanity stabbed at him viciously, drawing blood and only increasing his agony.**_

_** And the voices… oh, Norns, the voices of the dead… They echoed in his mind- dark and menacing, frightened and tremulous, broken, bitter, lost, manic, screaming, screaming, screaming—**_

_** He felt himself sobbing hysterically, gasping for breath as he clawed at his ears, desperate to make it STOP—**_

_ I will find you I will find you I WILL FIND YOU_

_** MAKE IT STOP—!**_

Loki came to on the floor of his cell, shaking uncontrollably as he sat on the ground, his knees drawn up to his chest protectively and his arms wrapped around his head. His chest felt constricted, his breath coming it short gasps; the walls of the spacious cell suddenly were too confining, closing in on him along with the darkness and memories and pain and the voices and—

__"_**STOP IT**_," he snarled aloud, digging his nails into his palms so fiercely that his hands started to bleed slightly. The sharp, unexpected pain shook him back into reality, its edges clearly defined rather than the blurred shadows of the inexplicable tortures he remembered suffering from… _**them.**_

Not for the first time, he cursed himself for his pathetic show of fear, his rationality quickly beginning to return to him. His breathing slowed to a more normal pace, and he did his best to force his muscles to stop shaking. Finally, he straightened and lifted his head.

He knew almost instantly that he wasn't alone; he realized that the feeling of being watched had been niggling him for some time, and he had only just now registered the sensation. He glanced up and saw Frigga watching him silently, a concerned look on her face.

He gave her a twisted smile, summoning his pride and bitterness and quickly forming a façade of contempt and unruffled indifference, although he was sure Frigga had seen his moment of weakness. "Eavesdropping, Mother? How inconsiderate of you."

She inclined her head slightly. "I was merely observing, Loki. I fear I did not know how to comfort you, and so I watched in order to understand, at least a little, the extent of my son's pain."

She fell silent, and Loki felt a flash of irritation towards the fact that Frigga was now aware of his nightmares. He opened his mouth to respond…

…And suddenly felt a rush of malevolent, dark power rush through him, tinting his vision blood-red and turning everything before his eyes into living, twisting shadows of darkness. He shuddered involuntarily, his mind reeling with amazement and a sudden rabid desire to control the power that had suddenly possessed him. Reaching out with his magic, he stretched out to touch the pulsing energy that had spread into his corner of Yggdarsil—

A flash of light exploded in his eyes and he jerked back, his pupils contracting and dilating rapidly before returning to normal, his breathing ragged. He cast his gaze over to Frigga; she was shaking slightly, her face pale and grim, and her eyes a storm of fear and determination.

"You felt it, too," he surmised, and she nodded.

"Something… something has happened. A darkness has awoken, one that has lain dormant for thousands of years," she whispered. Her eyes widened slightly. "It cannot be…"

Before Loki could respond, she vaporized without another word, her illusion disappearing in a flash of gold light.

Cursing under his breath in frustration, Loki cast himself onto his bed, a sour taste in his mouth. There would be no information forthcoming from Frigga, and if something truly drastic had happened, it would likely be some time before he saw her again.

The darkness had a mind of its own; it was a living beast of unimaginable power… Loki longed to subjugate it to his will, but he knew that with his carefully restricted magic, he had no chance of gaining control over it.

He would have to get out first.

Some time later—perhaps a few hours after Frigga left—Loki sat crosslegged on his bed, his eyes closed as he faced the wall, his mind lost in the vastness of Yggdarsil. The darkness pulsed in a corner of the Tree's branches, its power growing steadily, pressing down more and more heavily on his consciousness as time stretched on.

And yet, there was something else… something more fragile, a soft strand of light shifting in and out of the darkness, battling for control. Sometimes it held the upper hand; other times, it suddenly shrank so fast that the darkness seemed to explode outward, feeding on the weakness of the light—only to be forced back into submission by the tenuous chain of the light's control.

But the light was fading, frail and flickering, slowly losing its domination over the might of the dark power pulsing beneath its tendrils. The struggle for lordship was fascinating, and Loki found himself almost mesmerized by the fight.

Suddenly, everything shifted.

The darkness and the light became sharper and clearer, their presence instantaneously intensified and closer, more personal and captivating Loki's attention. They surrounded him, swirling around him as he stood in his corner of Yggdarsil, shivers dancing along his spine as he felt the weight of the power resonating around him.

So close, and yet so far.

And yet, it was so tangible, so sharp and clear and enticing, it was as if…

As if they were in the same realm, here in Asgard… even in the same _**building **_as him.

Loki's eyes snapped open, wide and emerald green as everything suddenly fell into place in his mind.

_**It was here.**_

_**A/N: There we go! Finally, the way-overdue and way-too-short next chapter of **_**Fallen God**_**! Hope you enjoyed it! From this point on, the story will probably include a lot more of the plot dialogue, so there will likely be some disclaimers at the top so I don't get sued or something. XP ("Whaddya mean, I don't own Marvel?!")**_

_** Thanks for reading! Hope to update soon!**_

_**-Arwen ;)**_


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